


Cypher: Case I

by orphan_account



Series: Elementary Series - Jikook [1]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Sherlock (TV) Fusion, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Gen, I was two years younger when i wrote this, Jimin is the sass King, Jungkook likes it tho, M/M, Murder, Mystery, PERIODT, Violence, but hey, its cringey, its kinda cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 14:16:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In a Sherlock-esque world, Detectives Park Jimin - Sass Queen extraordinaire - and Jeon Jungkook - Confused Coconut - embark on solving cases that may have thorny vines tied to their intertwined pasts. This is a story of love, humor and murder mysteries.Or, the one where Jimin could sass like a second language and hates humans while Jungkook just wants to Solve The Case and be left at peace with his banana milk.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook & Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Elementary Series - Jikook [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549357
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Cypher: Case I

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! So, I've done SteveTony Marvel fics before, so a BTS AU one is new to me. I've always noticed that despite the abundance of Mafia fics and Murder AUs, there a very few fics where the members are actual detectives or have a relation to the Sherlock Holmes style of investigation.  
The idea has always piqued my interest, so I decided to select the two members who go most with Sherlock and Watson (their TV versions) and make a fic! Lo and Behold, Jikook. Obviously, I ship Johnlock too :P Also, I wrote this like two years ago and my writing has improved alot since then, so don't hold this trash against me.  
p.s this fic is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

** _ \- Prologue -_ **

The nightly wind howled shrilly like the spectral whistles of melancholic ghosts. The dusty windows shivered violently. The ticking sound of the glass clacking against its metal holders echoed eerily around the vast, frightening manor. It undeniably unnerved Hestia Hewitt, though she’d didn’t (or wouldn’t, for her pride) admit it. Her hands trembled, clutching the soft material of her blanket. Now was the time when she immensely regretted accepting Amy’s invitation to come here.

Sure, she was friends with the Amy Hollister, daughter of Hollister Estate’s CEO. Sure, it rivalled her own dad’s institution, “Cypher”, and the two CEO’s may have gotten into a recent fist-fight.

Hestia still expected to be treated fairly. She honestly thought she would. But after how dinner went, she was sure that was Not Going To Happen.

She didn’t even _know _Amy’s house was so antique and factually what anyone would call a manor. Hestia lived in a modern penthouse, and – since the parents of Amy work in the same line of work as her dad – expected Amy to live in the same settings. It was a pleasant sort of surprise at first since Hestia always enjoyed something to spice up her monotonic nights, but now it was just plain creepy. She took out her laptop.

Maybe she could utilize the extra time without some butler looming over her to find out what her father _actually _does. No, not the real estate thing he talks about. It was pretty obvious that was a cover up – honestly, Hestia isn’t that dumb!

She was an outstandingly skilled computer programmer, so she definitely knew her way around code. She also knew – after eavesdropping on whatever meeting her father, Paul Hewitt, had with his client on his phone yesterday – that her father’s programmers are all so adept at creating byzantine, intricately designed firewalls, that it’s designed in an explicit sequence so that only the present client is given the password and it’s virtually impossible for anyone else to go in. Even if the client tried to give the password to anyone else. Hestia had no idea how that could ensue. _Hey,it’s 2021, anything can happen, _Hestia had thought when discovering this detail.

However, yesterday, Hestia had successfully bribed one of her father’s most trusted workers into stealing one of her father’s ‘Firewall Breakers’, which looked like a slightly smaller Pen drive. She could finally find out what she’s been thinking of for almost a decade.

“_Seven years,” _she thought, “_I didn’t figure it would take so long. I’m almost 18 now.”_

Rubbing her hands together anticipatingly, she reached down the bed. She took it out of her luggage bag and inserted it into the USB port. Instantly, a pop up appeared. It wasn’t like any typical pop up.

It contained corrupt-looking cryptids and weird patterns on the disconcertingly dark window. In the exact middle, a bright yellow sign said, ‘Accept?’ with an ominous-looking red ‘Yes’ option under it. It had no options to close the window, or to deny the question. As though entranced by the red box, Hestia vacuously moved her hand onto her mouse, clicking ‘Yes’. An eerie sound played from her laptop. It felt like it was coming from around her, enveloping her in a type of adrenaline she couldn’t quite recognize.

Another pop-up, this time saying in a bold, murky font: ‘You have accepted. You are now entering Cypher.com. Welcome, dear customer.’ A browser opened of its own accord.

It…wasn’t any of the browsers that Hestia had. It was _definitely _not google. In fact, it seemed otherworldly. It was dark, and it was like the screen casted shadows instead of light. Exhilaration jolted through her like broken spasms of lightning. _Finally. _Hands trembling, Hestia hesitantly heaved her hand on the keyboard, pressing enter. Instantaneously, the website appeared.

Hestia’s hands went up to her mouth. Trying to contain the urge to vomit, she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Whatever was on that screen, Hestia wanted it to _close. _To just _go away. _Her vision blurred with tears of pure terror and shock. She couldn’t differentiate between the different images of the clumpy scarlet mounds. Hestia could feel her heart thump against her ribs, and her forehead forming sweat. She pulled off the Firewall Breaker and slammed down the screen of her laptop. Breathing in deeply, she took out her notebook. She was about to pull out her pen and write when- _Oh shit._

A flustered figure stood on the threshold, wielding what seemed to be a needle. Hestia briskly stuffed the Breaker inside her duffle bag and shoved her laptop under the pillow. Laughing nervously, she said, ‘Come in!’ the figure clambered in, saying in a soft voice, ‘I thought I might find you awake…Just wanted to talk.’ Hestia nodded, waiting. As though choking in her tears, Amy sniffed.

She plopped on the bed, her knuckles whitening because of how tightly she was holding the needle, ‘So, enjoying the stay? I know dad was a bit rude, but you understand, right?’ Hestia smiled and nodded; she was not the type who would get skittish about good hosts. Amy cleared her throat and then leaned towards Hestia.

‘Hest, i-if someone really important and dangerous ever told you to-to do something wrong - something _evil_ \- and someone who you cared about had their life depending on whether or not you did it, would you?’

‘I dunno? And frankly, nothing like that’s gonna happen.’

‘Suppose it did. Suppose it was your mother or father – or someone whose life depended on it. I know, it’s sudden, but bear with me.’

‘Well- my dad… I suppose he can take care of himself, so no situation like that’ll arise,’ the image of his website flashed through her mind, and she crammed it out, ‘But my mom…yeah, I’d do anythig for her.’

‘What if you had to kill someone who found out something they weren’t supposed to?’ Amy asked, inching closer to Hestia.

She thought for a moment, then replied, ‘…I guess. But what’re you getting at? Do you have to-’

Amy shushed her, ‘Shh! They’re hearing. Look, Hestia, would you – would you kill your best friend? To save your mom. Suppose the best friend…caught wind of some secret…’

Hestia’s eyes widened with fear and realization, ‘You don’t mean-’

‘I’m so sorry.’

Amy shoved the needle inside Hestia’s arm and hastily got up. She walked shakily to the door and looked back at Hestia’s confused and dizzying vision.

The last thing Hestia saw was Amy mouthing ‘sorry’. And then her vision went black.

*~*~*~*

_ **Case 1 : Cypher** _

Jimin sipped on his coffee, flipping through channels and deciding on which movie to watch. It was increasingly difficult to decide on something with his friend bobbing from one side of the room to the other, humming a tune. He had to keep a very firm grip on his fist to stop it from meeting Jungkook’s cheek.

Mr.Seokjin, their housekeeper came in, looking as though the pair had done him a personal offence (in his perspective, they had). He stood in front of them, blocking the TV, a duster in one hand and the other on his hip. The sight reminded Jimin eerily of an angry mother.

‘And _why _are you boys watching TV instead of rushing to the newest crime scene?!’ He demanded.

Jimin and Jungkook exchanged confused faces. What scene? They finished all their open cases two days ago. Jimin asked blankly, ‘…crime scene?’

Seokjin dropped his duster. Then, scarlet in the face, fumbled with his words, ‘Ah - I see I forgot to tell you two. There was a homicide on Harvey Hollister Manor - unfortunate, really. I’m sure you’ve heard of the place, the Uber is downstairs.’ Seokjin hurriedly left the room, duster in hand once again, leaving the two to rush and get ready.

Honestly, after the first seven times, Jimin didn’t even have to think to move his hands in routined hurry.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, the both of them got into the Uber. Jungkook leaned forward and addressed the driver, ‘Harvey Hollister Manor, please.’

Jimin – once again – lit his ebony pipe. He let out a grateful puff, saying in a satisfied sort of voice, ‘It’s been so long since I last smoked. It just seems awkward to do it when out of work.’ It actually _was. No, _He wasn’t dependent on work and cigars, whatever those headlines said.

Jungkook, who was looking at him peevishly, said in an incredulous voice, ‘It’s been _two days, _you absolute piece of sociopathic insanity!’

Jimin shrugged unrepentantly. He couldn’t be bothered with disappointment; it wasn’t Jungkook’s lungs that would rot, why is he even so irritated? After a few seconds of Jungkook just staring at Jimin blowing nonchalantly from his pipe, he straightened up. He said in a genuinely curious voice, ‘Why _do _you only smoke when on a case?’ he sniggered and continued, ‘Is it because _you’re _the nutcase?’

Rolling his eyes, Jimin said, ‘I dunno, why do humans swing their arms when they walk?’

‘You say that like you’re not human.’

‘You say that like you think I _am _one_._’ Jimin was pretty sure Jungkook didn’t, so it was a qualified rebuttal.

The driver cut in, ‘Do you two always bicker like that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, definitely.’

The driver cleared his throat and stopped the car in front of two massive iron-wrought, elegant and polished gates, the pointed upper ends engraved with a “HH” in gold. They paid the driver and presented the very sullen and grumpy guard with their IDs. He bowed down, letting them in. Noticing a huge rifle sitting idly beside the guard, Jungkook let out a not-so-discreet whimper and inched closer to Jimin. He nervously pinched at Jimin’s inverness cloak.

The warmth blooming in the pit of his stomach at the idle act was a welcome feeling, albeit a new one. _Shut up_¸ he told his mind quietly.

They gracelessly opened the main doors which led to the inside of the mansion and strode in, not even bothering to ask permission or greet the baffled butlers. Jungkook silently pointed at the huge gathering of cops on the top of the stairs, right beside an open door. He went that way, Jimin trotting right behind him. They went up and pushed their way in.

Inside, the sergeant – Kim Namjoon – was wiping his sweat nervously with a napkin. The small room was lit with a bright golden-hued light bulb on the ceiling and two lamps besides the bed. To Jimin, it made Jungkook’s hazelnut hair look like the color of a lion’s mane. ‘Thank goodness you’re here!’ Namjoon said, relieved. Pausing, he yelled outside, ‘I apologize for troubling you all after hours, but you can go home now!’

As the procession headed towards the front doors, Jimin glanced at the limp body. He crouched in front of the lying figure on the bed. Arthur, the “official” detective on the investigation office, said irritably, ‘What in the world _took _you guys so long?’

Jungkook replied absentmindedly, observing the body, ‘Seokjin forgot to tell us again.’

Arthur grumbled, ‘Daft little bull, that one.’ In what seemed to be a millisecond, Jimin whipped his body towards Arthur and attempted to throw his fist at him. Jungkook held Jimin back, struggling and stumbling.

Jimin growled, ‘Let - me - go!’

Jungkook told him to calm down while the sergeant snapped at Arthur, harshly telling him to go home. Arthur left, mumbling incoherent insults (No doubt with inhospitably chosen words).

Jungkook, after calming him, angrily said, ‘_Park fucking Jimin! _Why on earth did you decide on punching him instead of – well – filing a complaint or something?! You could have very well lost your job!’

Jimin glared at the door and said starkly, ‘He insulted_ Seokjin! _You said it yourself; he’s like our elder brother!’ Jungkook bit his lip, thinking for a second, and said, ‘Yeah. Yeah, I suppose you’re right,’ he continued, ‘but control yourself next time.’

Jimin turned to the sergeant and said, ‘Are we free to touch whatever pieces of evidence we like? Given that we wear gloves, of course.’ The sergeant nodded, leaving the room to gather the Hollisters for a few follow-up questions which would be held in the living room.

Jimin sat on the bed, put on his gloves and threw aside the pillow. As he did, he muttered, ‘I was sure it seemed to be too high to have absolutely nothing under it…’ He held up a sleek, rose-gold laptop. Jungkook sat beside him as Jimin opened the laptop. Jungkook said, ‘Huh. No password.’

Jimin shook his head, ‘I studied computers for a year or so. That password’s been removed… maybe a particularly dangerous virus. Jungkook, check under the bed for any sort of luggage, would you, ‘gguk? Perhaps the luggage bag has something relevant the professional detectives missed - being stupid and all.’ Jungkook rolled his eyes at the snide remark and pulled out a duffle bag from under the bed. Jimin nodded and opened the sack. In it was a weird, small looking USB, a Ziplock bag containing something greenish, some hard cash and a lighter.

Jimin muttered, ‘Ah, so our victim had weed. Poor girl.’

Jungkook asked, ‘Is it possible that she simply died of an overdose?’

Jimin – grudgingly – shook his head (he would have liked for the case to be over quickly). ‘No, ‘gguk, it’s definitely a murder,’ he then grabbed the victim’s arm and continued, ‘Look here, see the small puncture? It’s possibly from an article of murder. After all, if she had an injection recently, the receipt would have been here; the puncture is new. Last night, by the looks of it. Traces of dried blood too. Maybe… a pin of sorts. It may have been poisoned or coated with a certain reactive drug…’ Jimin got off the bed and searched around for a while, before pulling out a needle from under the mattress. ‘Aha.’ He said, sniffing the needle.

He muttered, ‘It smells like AH-7921. I would know, from my experience, trust me. Alone, it’s not that dangerous of a drug. But when taken with weed…the reaction’s quite fatal. But still, poison is a possibility we cannot push aside just yet. We can’t confirm with just scent. Bag it, we’ll take it to the forensics back at the station.’

Jungkook suddenly got back up to examine the body, beckoning Jimin, ‘Hey, c’mere!’ He pointed out the victim’s mouth, ‘See that? Residual foaming round the edges,’ he also opened up the victim’s eyes to reveal veins that were still unusually red, ‘Eye veins are still pretty red. That’s probably AH-7921! Of course, it’s just a conjecture.’

He looked up, and his eyes locked on Jimin’s. Jungkook subconsciously felt a lump rise in his throat – the way Jimin was staring at him made something tingle in his abdominal region. Brushing it aside as just ‘breakfast being weird’, he took Jimin and they went downstairs.

Jimin sat in front of the fidgety teenage girl wearing all white from head to toe, her blonde, flowy, hair pulled behind her using a jewel-encrusted headband. He leaned in front of her, and whispered, ‘Why don’t we go up to Hestia’s room? I might know why you wouldn’t want to talk in front of everyone.’ She nodded shakily and got up. Jimin followed suit, while Jungkook started to ask the parents general questions. (‘what were you doing at the time of the murder?’ ‘when was the last time you saw Hestia?’ and so forth).

Jimin asked her to sit down and lifted up the needle from the table with his gloved hand, sitting down on the chair.

‘Yow knew her well?’ Jimin said somberly, not needing to look at the girl to know she was resolutely not looking up from the floor.

‘You could say that. I mean, we met each other less than a year ago, but we _were _very close…’

‘How old are you, Miss Hollister?’

‘Don’t you already know?’ She said with a twinge of irritation and wariness.

‘I’m the one asking questions here, Miss Hollister.’ Jimin replied firmly.

‘...Seventeen.’

‘You were in here last night, were you not?’ He said, holding up a headband from under the bed, matching the one she was wearing at the moment. Amy’s face darkened.

She muttered, ‘I swore I kept that in my room.’

‘Tell me, why’d you murder her?’

Amy stopped for a beat, then hardened her face, ‘You’re just going to hand me over to the police, then?’

‘No, I just know that _someone _told you to. Ordered you. I could see proof.’

The girl hesitated, ‘what proof?’

Jimin raised his eyebrow, ‘Please. It’s obvious. You have a number of cuts on your left hand. Of course, you couldn’t have done them yourself, you’re left handed. How do I know, you ask? Well, the guitar downstairs. It’s left handed. What’s more, I know for a fact it’s you who plays the guitar. The ridge on your right hand’s index finger,’ he pointed towards it, ‘is caused by a pick; the specific shape can cause the bump. And your parents, they don’t have the ridge, and none are left handed, seeing as they were writing down their signatures of compliance when I went down with their right hand. My conclusion, someone did them to you. It may have just been simple “bullies”, but I suspect there is more to it.’

The girl whimpered, and Jimin’s gaze softened. ‘Tell me why you obeyed them. Look, I can help you.’

‘You can’t’ she murmured.

Jimin stared at her, as if to say, ‘Try me.’ Amy sniveled, and tears slid down her cheeks from her glimmering eyes. ‘T-they told me to. They told me to kill her. I don’t know what they do, or who they work for, b-but apparently Hestia found something out and she _really _shouldn’t have. S-so they said they’d kill _my_ _mom _if I didn’t – well, kill Hestia. I didn’t know what else to do.’

Jimin nodded thoughtfully. He quietly went downstairs, leaving Amy weeping.

*~*~*~*

‘Jimin, you seem like you’re not telling me something.’ Jungkook said unexpectedly while they were in their living room, poring over the notes the sergeant had given them (whereabouts of possible suspects, results from the needle examination – which clearly resulted in traces of AH-7921).

Jimin spluttered, ‘W-what?’

Jungkook arched an eyebrow questioningly, ‘Huh. You really think little of me. If anyone knows when you lie, it’s gotta be me.’

Jimin’s face had turned into the likeness of a ripe strawberry at those words, something Jungkook seemed to be enjoying very much, ‘Oh, look at that! I’ve made the great Park Jimin blush!’

‘Ridiculous! Untrue!’ Jimin exclaimed, feeling his face burn hotter and contradict him. _Curse his body, dammit._

‘Tell me what you’re hiding and I won’t press. You know that withholding evidence from another primary on a case is illegal, right?’

Jimin sighed in a resigning manner, ‘I suppose I can tell you. If you must know, young Miss Hollister, or as we better know her, Amy, confessed to the crime,’

Jungkook replied, ‘I’m not that surprised.’

Jimin continued, ‘But she was forced. She told me this would help.’ He held up a USB-looking device. He also grabbed a sleek rose-gold laptop from a duffle bag. ‘Seeing as the device has already done its damage on the victim’s laptop, we should proceed here; ours might get infected by a virus.’

‘Did you steal that from the evidence files?! Jim, you know Namjoon hates it when you pull these stunts!’

Nonchalant, his partner replied, ‘Oh, so am I suddenly the police pet? It’s not my fault they hired a rebellious private detective. Now, are you going to help me or not?'

Jungkook thought for moment, ‘Sure, Namjoon doesn’t know, so why not?’

Jimin’s lip quirked up, ‘Hm, I thought you weren’t one for breaking too much rules. I, of course, don’t allow the lesser minds of capitalist lawmakers to limit my contemplative actions.’

Jungkook shrugged, ‘You _work _for those “capitalist law-makers”, don’t you?’ He moved to sit on the arm of Jimin’s sofa and place in the device.

‘Wait!’ said Jimin, ‘We’ll use the victim’s USB we found in that room she was killed in. We can keep Amy’s for later use.’

Together, they plugged in the device, anticipating something dark and devious. As they waited for it to load, Jimin noticed just how close they were sitting. He could feel the warmth of Jungkook’s breath on his neck, making his hairs stand on end. He gulped, pushing the illicit thoughts out of his mind. _’Its just Jungkook. He had to stop and focus on the case._

The box appeared once again, containing the explicit cryptids. Jimin clicked on “yes”, showing no emotion whatsoever, while Jungkook’s hands quivered slightly in nervousness. Subconsciously, he laced it around Jimin’s left hand, which was comfortably seated on his lap. Jimin had to hold back a satisfied whoop at minimal contact. With this raid change of feelings, he could get whiplash.

The website appeared. Jungkook had to face away from the screen in utter disgust, while Jimin sat steady. He stretched his fingers, ‘So, a hitman website? I wonder why they didn’t simply make the website in the dark web; this seems far more complex, don’t you think?’

Jungkook blanched, ‘All I think is that they use _way_ too much blood to advertise.’

Jimin replied, ‘Persuasive marketing tricks, you see. It pleases upcoming clients to see how…‘violent’ they are. They must want a job done like that if they’re hiring a specialist. To put it in simple words, blood is for luring upcoming customers.’

Jungkook looked at him disbelievingly, saying nothing.

Jimin replied coolly, ‘Think like the enemy to figure them out.’ His pure skill and imperturbability when it came to the job struck Jungkook in a hit of admiration.

He gulped, ‘So what’s the plan now?’

Jimin rubbed his hands. ‘Ah, It’s all elementary. Firstly, we must hire a hitman.’

‘_Wh-What?_’ Jungkook exclaimed, eyes wide in incredulity. Jimin shrugged, smiling, ‘What? Also, I’m aware your combat skills are very much over the average British man’s. I’ve seen your taekwondo school records.’

Jungkook muttered half-heartedly in a cynical tone, ‘I’m sure that’s because I’m half-Asian…’

Jimin replied, ignoring Jungkook, ‘We use you as bait. You’ll be the one they’ll try to kill.’ Jungkook tried to protest, but Jimin kept cutting him off.

‘…Aaaand Hired!’

What Jungkook yelled next was heard throughout the whole apartment building (and probably the whole neighborhood too):

_‘Go to hell, Park Freaking Jimin!’_

*~*~*~*

‘Oh, here I am, just tied up on a chair, in a damned abandoned warehouse._ Oh no, whatever shall I do?_’ Jungkook said sarcastically through gritted teeth.

Jimin shoved him, tightening the ropes, ‘Stop the tomfoolery, you bloody audacious git.’

Jungkook scoffed, ‘You’re the one risking my life to capture a hostage, and you’re not even sure if it’ll work out right! For all we know, there might be more than a dozen people as backup!’ Jimin stiffened the ropes more, sneering quietly.

‘Hey - Ouch!’ Jungkook cried miserably.

His partner wrapped a cloth around his mouth, muttering something about ‘kinks’. Jungkook silently chuckled – his partner had quite the imagination.

Jimin rushed behind a crate, hiding. He turned on the app from his phone which was recording everything from the mic on Jungkook’s cuff, taking in everything the wearer said and heard. Jungkook continued to glare at him, resolve shying away when Jimin smiled apologetically.

A limo pulled over outside the open door of the warehouse. Jungkook pretended to struggle, attempting to expose more of his ‘costume bruises’ (as Jimin called them). Jimin strode from the crate, and in front of Jungkook. A bald, expressionless man walked out of the car, loading his pistol and taking out a ragged dagger. He wore a black formal suit.

Jimin smiled formally, ‘Hello. I’m your client Jimin, and _this _right here,’ he gestured towards the struggling Jungkook, ‘is your target. I did the hard work of bringing him to you. All I want you to do is kill and cover my steps, understood? The second I untie him, you stab.’ The assassin nodded. Jimin moved to undo the ropes, winking at Jungkook. Jungkook blushed, letting his hair fall on top of his face; there was no way he was giving Jimin the satisfaction of his flustered face.

Jimin untied the ropes. In an instant, Jungkook shot up, rearing his leg and clashing it magnificently against the hitman’s unguarded arm. Recovering from the surprise, the hitman grabbed a rustic pistol from his pocket and aimed it at Jungkook. Jimin pulled out another gun, pointing it sharply towards the hitman. ‘I hear one simple _cock _of the gun, I’m pulling the trigger.’ The hitman cursed under his breath and raised his arms, dropping the weapon. Jungkook kicked aside the hitman’s gun, which lay on the floor.

He then glanced at Jimin, who still remained in his stance, and said dubiously, ‘you have a gun and didn’t give one to me?!’

Jimin muttered, ‘Check your coat.’ Jungkook did so. ‘Oh!’ in his hand was a Glock. ‘Thanks!’

Jimin took to rolling his eyes instead of replying. Jungkook turned towards the hitman and abruptly shot behind him. Jimin exclaimed, ‘_what was that?’ _

Jungkook squinted his eyes, mumbling, ‘Backup behind him.’

Jimin smiled evilly, ‘Get ‘em.’

It was pandemonium. Hitmen shouted instructions to one another, screaming senseless attack formations no one listened to. Under the cover of all the bedlam, several people escaped, but after some excruciatingly difficult shots and a few mentionable scratches and quite a lot of lost blood, the two partners had managed to round up and tie 3 Assassins (Jimin had brought some extra ropes inside his suit – to which Jungkook had said, ‘Where the hell do you keep these ropes, you BDSM freak?!’).

Panting, Jungkook grabbed his shoulder, which was bleeding. Jimin looked at him worriedly; ‘We’d better fix tha-’

‘It can wait.’ Jungkook said firmly.

Jimin frowned, then looked at the 3 besieged bodies lying in front of them, ‘We’ll be back.’ he said with a clenched jaw. Jungkook objected, ‘But-’

Jimin sighed, ‘Like I said, We’ll. Be. Back. You’re going to the hospital _now._’

Jungkook smirked, an idea hitting him, ‘Or…’

*~*~*~*

A few minutes later, Jimin and Jungkook were shoving two hostages into the bunker of their car, ‘Roomy enough for three, don’t you think?’ Jimin mused. They proceeded to throw in the other captive, grinning, satisfied with their devious idea.

‘You fags won’t get away with this,’ one of the captives had growled threateningly. The insult seemed to have struck a chord on Jungkook, who – despite his injury – landed a painful punch onto the hitman. The man's bone cracked sickeningly underneath Jungkook's knuckes.

Jimin had raised both his eyebrows in curiosity; Jungkook was always blasé and deaf to insults.

Jungkook muttered, ‘Homosexuality isn’t a joke or an insult. It gets on my nerves when people treat it like that.’ Jimin honestly hadn’t realized that the assassin meant that when using the insult, but said nothing about it. However, a question popped into his mind – something he didn’t really know despite their years spent together.

Before he could stop himself, he asked, ‘Jungkook…are you-’

‘Gay?’ Jungkook finished, ‘I-I don’t know…I’m-I just…well, I guess I am?

Strangely, Jimin found himself hopeful at the new revelation, ‘Well, at any rate, just know that I support you no matter what. And you might say…well…I’m bisexual.’

‘Y’know, I never thought that I’d come out after playing captive in an abandoned warehouse and beating up a dozen hitmen.’ Jungkook smiled – a smile that, Jimin now noticed, made his heart skip more than just one beat. Oh. Oh _Shit._

Cutting the silence, another detainee cleared his throat and said, ‘I’m gay too!’

Jimin and Jungkook looked at him. They said nothing.

‘Uh…sorry. I thought we were coming out.’

Jimin, not trying to hide the amused grin, said, ‘Let’s go to the hospital first, hm?’ Jungkook tried to nod, but soon stopped, seeing as it hurt his shoulder more than anticpated. He winced painfully. Together, they got into their car and drove towards the local clinic.

As Jungkook stifled a groan, Jimin’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his apprehension growing and concern gnawing at him. In about half an hour, they had reached the hospital. They locked their trunk and went inside. After a few not-so-hidden yelps Jungkook had tried to muffle and an hour inside the chamber, Jungkook was bandaged, almost as well as before.

The doctor had told him to stay out of combat for about two days, so they had decided to go straight back home instead of going to the warehouse again to search for any evidence the fighters might have left behind. Jungkook staggered out, about to head up to their apartment, when Jimin abruptly piped up, ‘Check the bunker. They haven’t made any sound after we came back down from the hospital. Something’s up.’

Jungkook sighed tiredly, ‘Sometimes being too paranoid isn’t good, Jimin. Especially for a detective, you know?’ Jimin rubbed his temples, getting out of the car, ‘Just- never mind, I’ll do it myself, - and you probably can’t lift it up.’ Jimin strode over to the bunker and opened it. Jungkook stood behind him, arm in cast, waiting patiently.

Two dead bodies tumbled out, fresh blood seeping out of each of their temples.

‘Ah fuckin' hell._’_

*~*~*~* 

Jimin and Jungkook sat in their library, their train of thought travelling many ways. Jimin had ruffled his hair frustratedly so many times it looked as though a bird lived there. He kept on muttering, ‘The third one escaped.’

All of a sudden, Jungkook perked up, his eyes widening, ‘Do you reckon he took something with him? Have you - have you checked the duffle bag? The car was already unlocked when we came back. I’d thought you left it like that, but now…’

Jimin coughed and spluttered with pink ears, ‘And you didn’t think of telling me that before?!’ Jungkook gave an anxious smile in reply.

With creased eyebrows and a deep frown, Jimin snatched the limp duffle bag from the small tea-table, it’s gray, drooping form reminding one of an elderly’s wrinkles. He peered in, and then threw it to the other side of the room, where it clashed with the shelf and fell to the floor. Jimin’s burning gaze moved to meet Jungkook’s ashen face. He took in a sharp breath of air through gritted teeth and said, ‘The Pendrive is gone.’

Jungkook smiled quietly.

Jimin took long strides over to Jungkook and his short figure only somehow managed to look threatening as he raised an eyebrow and said in a high voice, _‘YOU’RE SMILING? What the bloody hell is-_’

Jungkook raised his hand to quiet Jimin. ‘My smart friend, I think for the first time in my life, I’m just one step ahead of you.’ Jimin elevated an accusing finger. He was about to open his mouth when the familiar black USB waved into his vision. Jungkook chuckled, ‘You seem to have forgotten how Amy gave one to us too. The third hostage simply took Hestia’s one. This USB is what you said we can keep for “Later Use”. I didn’t say anything to you since I was sure the hostages might hear from the bunker.’

Jimin managed a relieved grin. He slapped Jungkook’s back in a congratulating way, but it was definitely meant to inflict pain.

Jungkook scowled, ‘Why do i always have to suffer in this partnership?’ However, he was only talking to himself since Jimin had already taken the Pendrive and was now proceeding to turn on the Laptop.

Jungkook snickered, ‘That computer must be strong if it managed to endure one of your throws. I still haven’t forgotten what you did to my favorite pillow in one of your fits.’ Jimin mimicked his words in a higher voice while scrunching his face. They sat down beside each other on the bronze couch and placed the laptop on the tea table. Their apprehensive faces were lit in golden by the flames crackling in the fireplace. This time, when the website opened up, a red circle with a “1” popped up on the “Messages” icon. They shared the same look of surprise. Jimin moved his cursor there and clicked.

A chat-box of sorts showed itself, and the user who sent the message was simply a few numbers:

‘01001101 01000001 01010011 01010100 01000101 01010010’

The message was also in numbers, and it occurred to Jimin that it may be Binary Code.

‘01000001 01001101 01011001 is next. Be warned.’

Jungkook shuffled uncomfortably and Jimin grinned widely. ‘Finally, a case worth my while.’

Jungkook muttered something about ‘I have a weird type’ and ‘Partner my foot’ while Jimin took out his phone.

He opened an app, ‘I had it installed in case it ever came in handy.’

Jungkook ruffled his hair and said, ‘What is it?’ Jimin licked his lips anticipatingly, ‘A binary to text translator.’

After translating the text, they had discovered that “Amy” was next, and the user was “Master”. Jungkook had instantly said, ‘let’s go to Miss Hollister’s house, we need to keep her safe.’ Jimin sat still and quiet for a moment and said, ‘You do that. I’m sure the ‘Master’ is using her as a distraction.’

He grabbed the USB, ‘I’m going over to the station, there’s something I need to track.’

‘Wait–’

Jimin, putting on his inverness cloak, looked back, ‘Yeah?’

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, 'Don't-don't get yourself hurt.'

Jimin smiled, ‘Gguk, don’t worry. I’d never let anything happen to me without you there! You always tell me to reserve my body for you to kill.'

Jungkook nodded, attempting for a reassuring grin but worry still evident on his face. However, he had his own task to focus on, so he soon put on his own jacket and headed out.

Jimin could handle a few hours without him, right?

*~*~*~*

Jimin came into the office wearing his infamous inverness cloak, its tail swooping behind him, a menacing aura of determination surrounding him. He stopped at the front of the bullpen, his gaze raking through the entire room.

Sergeant Namjoon looked up from his desk, ‘Uh…aren’t the sunglasses a bit too much?’ Jimin smirked, blatantly ignoring him and whipping around. He walked over to the naive-looking young male typing away on his laptop, not even noticing Jimin’s grand entrance.

Jimin cleared his throat and the person jumped up. ‘M-mister Park! I-I wasn’t expecting you. Hello. Did you need anything, s-sir?’

Jimin’s mouth formed a slight frown, voice as regal as his face, ‘Stop stuttering, it irritates me. Now, be of some use and track the duplicate of this thing for me, Dennis.’ He handed the boy a small Pendrive.

The person in question gasped, ‘H-how do I do that? Sorry, I’m just very nervous h-here. With you. I-I mean not _because _of you, but-’

Jimin seemed to be on the verge of losing his temper. ‘Just let me do it, you neophyte.’

‘O-okay.’ said Dennis.

Jimin opened up an app from the desktop and did a few things with the Pendrive and the laptop which Dennis had not the slightest idea of. ‘Wow, M-mister J-Jimin, you’re so great at this!’ Jimin smiled, ‘Experience, little one, experience.’

He got up and left with a swoosh op his cloak, leaving a confused & stuttering Dennis, ‘L-little one? B-but sir, I’m 19…’ Jimin rounded on Dennis once more, ‘Remember, I didn’t do all those months of mentoring you just so you could just forget it, do better next time.’ Dennis stared at the floor, ‘Y-yes, sir.’

After Jimin’s figure had completely disappeared from the threshold, Namjoon leaned on Dennis’s desk, ‘Don’t mind the shortie, kiddo, he’s just void of emotion.’

Dennis grabbed his leather jacket form the back of his chair, getting up, ‘It’s okay, sir, I don’t mind. My shift’s over now, right?’ Namjoon smiled knowingly before replying, ‘Yes. I see you bought yourself a new jacket, what’s the occasion?’

Dennis blushed, ruffling his ginger curls subconsciously, ‘Uh…it-it’s a date.’ Without waiting for his reply, Dennis quickly ran off, rehearsing what he would say.

Namjoon laughed reminiscently, ‘Oh, to be young and in love.’

*~*~*~*

Jimin arrived at a high-rise building towards the higher parts of the city. With big, bold, silver letters right under the roof was an inscribed banner, ‘Cypher EnterprisesTM, the only real estate you’ll need!’ He clenched the USB in his pocket, taking a deep breath. The thrill of putting a stop to this spread through him. He smiled, he’d used his wits correctly, and the other copies of this USB lead him to the – albeit obvious – hideout.

Just as he was about to step into the building, a shrill scream came from the far back alley of the building, cutting through the afternoon’s crisp air. Jimin whipped his head towards the noise, no way was that a coincidence. Before his mind knew what he was doing, his feet were carrying him towards the noise. _‘Damn my stupid sense of justice,’ _He thought in between the theories and scenarios buzzing around his head, _‘I’ll have to postpone my confrontation with Paul Hewitt, I suppose.’_

It was too late.

Blood was trickling from her beheaded neck, muscles throughout her body convulsing wildly. Amy’s openmouthed face rolled idly on the road, scarlet flecks wetting the gravel. Her tongue loosely hung from the dangling mouth. A gruesomely bloodstained axe was left haphazardly on top of a dumpster, small pieces of red flesh and chipped bones clinging to the edge of the sharp blade. Her eyes were blank and soulless; it seemed as though the sun’s burning reflection had no effect on it.

Jimin ran a hand through his hair, mumbling in a guilty voice, ‘_Damn it._’

He clenched his fist so tightly the inside of his palm started to bleed from the pressure his bitten, sharp nails put on it. Park Jimin was one to lie very often, was one to cleverly twist his words, was one to wickedly trick, but he was definitely _not _someone who broke his promises. And this time, he didn’t keep one. This is why they told you to not promise empty words. Had he not said he’d protect the young girl? She had her whole life ahead of her. His ineptness destroyed that. He was going to make up for that, no matter what.

Jungkook shortly arrived at the scene. Needless to say, he was a bit surprised and horrified when he saw Jimin kneeling silently in front of a body, hands bloody. At first, he thought Jimin had finally snapped and did the crime himself - let’s be honest, everyone thought it was bound to happen - but then he saw Jimin’s face. Jungkook without a shadow of a doubt knew Jimin better than anyone.

Perhaps if someone else had stumbled onto the sight, things would have gone down differently. But Jungkook knew. He knew Jimin didn’t do it – a voice in his head told him so, and he trusted that voice without hesitation, because it was Jimin’s.

Jimin once again raked his hand through the jet-black mess on top of his head, ‘Tch, if only I was quicker. If only I took the threat seriously. If I had just-’ Jungkook cut him off by taking the USB from his bleeding hand. ‘I know I should be politer with you now, but if you want a victim’s death to not go in vain, then we should hurry this up and go wherever you were going to. Stop wallowing in self-pity and do your job right, you’ll be out of focus, and that’s not a trait us investigators need!’

The edges of Jimin’s lip curled into a small smile, ‘Huh. Wise words for a man who had previously walked into a ditch thinking it was a darker patch of grass. Neophytes. Neophytes all around me!’

Jungkook suppressed a smile, the statement rolling glibly off his tongue, ‘Glad I could cheer you up, Jim.’

He put a hand on Jimin’s shoulder calmingly, ‘Let’s go now,’ he said gently, ‘we need to hurry up.’

Instead of replying, Jimin got up and grabbed Jungkook’s wrist. Despite the weight of their situation, Jungkook couldn’t hide the blush blooming on his face. Jimin was now smiling that perfect smile and back on track because of him – he could secretly spare a guiltless blush, couldn’t he?

Jimin stopped for a second, ‘Wait, weren’t you supposed to be with Miss Hollister?

‘I was, but Sergeant Namjoon called me to assist on the Gold Pearl case. I swear, Jimin, if I had known-’

Jimin turned around, a reassuring look bracing his faces, ‘It’s okay, ‘gguk. It’s not our fault.’

‘Where to now?’ Jungkook asked.

‘Just come with me,’ the resolute man beside him replied, dragging him across the narrow street and stopping in front of the skyscraper. ‘This is it.’

Together, they strode in. Jimin groped the gun in his pocket, clenching his jaw. Not even bothering to show the confused receptionist their IDs, the two of them headed straight to the top office, a strong air of fortitude emanating off them. A door with the words ‘Paul Hewitt’ embellished elegantly in silver stood in front of them. Jungkook twisted the doorknob, his pale hand contrasting worryingly with the dark hue of the handle. The door swung open, surprisingly unlocked. Sharing suspicious looks, they stepped in.

Instead of an empty office, they were greeted by the dead body of Amy’s father, Harvey Hollister. A newspaper excerpt of ‘_The Times_’ from a few weeks ago flashed through Jimin’s mind, the title reading, ‘The CEO’s of two Biggest Real Estate companies of the century debate head on, get in a brawl.’ The article was all about their long-lasting rivalry and how it seemed to finally go over the brim when it was discovered that their daughters were, evidently, very close friends.

Jimin sighed, ‘Another murder…’ Harvey was held up and hooked to the wall by an iron stake shoved into the weak, gray-painted plaster. The distinct color of crimson was spewed along it, making quite the scarily gripping artwork.

Shoving these trivial thoughts out of his head, Jimin ripped off a sticky note attached to the shiny rod. An untidy scrawl said, ‘meet at warehouse. Come alone, only with partner. Face me, coward.’

Making a noise of disgusted amusement, Jungkook looked over Jimin’s shoulder and said, ‘You woulda thought his hand’s rheumatic, with that handwriting,’ he then turned his head towards Jimin, holding a face of curious worry, ‘you…aren’t gonna face him alone, right? I mean, that’s not like you.’

Jimin nodded, ‘Quite right you are, dearest ‘gguk. I have no “hero complex” like most people involved in these predicaments, and I would quite like to stay alive instead of going alone. I mean, that’s suicide.’ He crumpled the piece of paper in his hand, ‘Little Paul Hewitt has no idea what’s coming.’

Jungkook grinned - he had no idea how he had managed to fall for the enigma that was Park Jimin, ‘I suppose you want to call in backup?’ 

‘Of course! Oh, tell them to be quiet and hidden this time, we’ll go to the warehouse first. Don’t want a repetition of the gym incident, do we?’

‘I most certainly don’t…stealth missions gone wrong don’t suit me well.’

*~*~*~*

When they arrived once again at the abandoned warehouse, they were greeted by the sickly-sweet stench of decomposing bodies. The two didn’t react much to it, as they had buried the two hitmen they’d found dead in the soil there – now _that _was something that took quite some explaining to do with a hysterical Namjoon. Their shoes stepped carefully on the gravel outside of the storeroom. Together, they went in.

Paul Hewitt stood in the middle of the warehouse, a masked man with a gun beside him, and trapped tightly, struggling in his arms was-

‘Dennis!’ cried Jimin, ‘What the hell?’ The mysterious man took off his mask, uttering an ominous snicker, ‘You didn’t think I’d fail to keep a captive, did you?’

Jungkook gasped, ‘You’re the third hostage! The one that escaped! F-from when we took those goons! How did you-’

The person held up a hand, ‘Surely, my dearest brother Paul could not have come so far in the hitman business without _me, Steven Hewitt_! Why, his wits wouldn’t have even gotten him anywhere in real estate!’

Jungkook raised his eyebrow, ‘Who?’

The person who claimed to be ‘Steven Hewitt’ stared half-heartedly at Paul, ‘This is what I said about no one knowing me.’ He continued, ‘But no matter, what you wanted to know was how I got this little kiddo, am I right? And about me being one of those so-called “hostages”, I of course went there to find out what you two were up to. The second I found out you were on the case, Park, and you hired someone, I knew I had to be there myself. I’ve heard about you two from my prison rats.’

Jimin menacingly advanced, making Paul smile. Jungkook crossed his arms, ‘Speak,’ he said. Jimin shook his head, ‘No need for such time waste, ‘gguk,’ he pulled out a revolver, ‘Let’s finish this.’ Steven made a sound of pleasant amusement, ‘Tch, I’m not going to fight you! If you give me the pendrive, I’ll give you the kid. If you don’t give me the pendrive, then he’s gettin’ shot.’ He aimed the gun at Dennis’s temple, his other arm holding him back tighter. Dennis struggled, ‘Let – me – _go_!’ Jimin’s determined eyes met his. Jimin said urgently, ‘Remember what I told you about this! I taught you! It was our first class!’

Jimin's determination flickered across his eyes as he locked them onto Dennis's struggling gaze, choking out words, 'The first lesson, Dennis!!' Momentary confusion swam around him before Dennis understood. 

*~*~*~*

_Jimin settled himself into the comfortable leather chair in the corner of Captain Min Yoongi's office, inquiringly looking at Lieutenant Namjoon from his seat. The two cops had called Jimin to the office under the pretense of discussing the stunt he and his partner had pulled that had almost jeopardized the capture of the Butterfly Killer. Jimin had instantly understood that it was a bold-faced lie, judging by the fact that Jungkook was nowhere near the vicinity of their division; he was taking a well-deserved break, resting his newest injuries from the strain of having to work another case. Jimin, on the other hand, blatantly denied the offer to take a week off, instigating Jungkook to accuse him of being a 'workaholic'. _

_Bringing himself back to the room he was in, he parted his lips to ask what in the world prompted this visit (he was busy pacing around the library and trying to piece together Arthur's case before him to piss him off, and he would like to get back to that, thank you very much). Just as the first syllable escaped his mouth, the door flew open and a small lump stumbled to the blue-carpeted floor. Ginger curls bobbed up as a freckled face spluttered, blossoming with a red hue, 'Hello, I'm Dennis P-Poller. It's an...an honour to be worki- to be working with you.'_

_Jimin leaned back on his chair, posture somehow still aristocratic. Needless to say, he was thoroughly unimpressed. Raising a perfectly arched eyebrow, he pursed his lips, indifferent. Dennis abruptly got up and turned on his heels, extending a quivering hand to Jimin, face apprehensive. Jimin reluctantly hooked one finger around the other's index - he'd have preferred to bluntly ignore the hand, but Namjoon's glare told him he wouldn't get any juicy murder cases if he didn't comply. Sighing at the still persistent glaring session that Yoongi had now joined into as well, he briefly performed a proper handshake before withdrawing his hands, trying his best not to display the proverbial shudder down his fastidious spine at the sticky skin. 'That Poller boy must have polyhidrosis...' he thought to himself distastefully._

_If he'd said the sentence out loud, no one called him out for it, seeing as they probably didn't even know what it meant. Trying to diffuse the tense air, Namjoon cleared his throat, making brief introductions with an uncomfortable smile. He turned to Jimin, 'Mister Poller will be under your wing for the first few moths of his internship, Jimin. I expect you'll be a good mentor to the boy?'_

_Oh, this could not be happening._

_Jimin laughed disbelievingly, 'I don't even work here, I'm just your private investigator. You- you can't possibly try to stick me with that type of job,' he gestured to Yoongi's expressionless demeanor, 'you people handle these!' Dennis looked put out, trying to shrink himself to the wall. Namjoon was clearly agitated, smile now strained, 'Jimin, Mister Poller specifically requested for you. There's nothing else to say. Private or not, you're legally allowed to mentor him, and you will.' He ended with a firm tone which indicated that their conversation was now over._

_Jimin spared a thoughtless glance at the fidgeting boy, before pulling his gaze back. His eyes scanned the slumped figure, looking at the countless bruises and scars on him. He clearly bumped into numerous things, like he unceremoniously showed before. He was jumpy, flinching every now and then - clearly incompetent. Jimin clenched his jaw, contemplating despite himself. He can't waste time on these trivial jobs, yet somehow..._

_'Fine.'_

_Namjoon looked surprised, and even Yoongi, who rarely even twitched a muscle at Jimin's antics, was slightly taken aback. 'Really? I'd have thought you needed much more convincing - even had a speech prepared...' Namjoon said, frowning. He clapped his hands together, discarding confusion and prioritizing the task at hand - Jimin recognized the silly hand gesture to be a habit of Seokjin's. To Jimin, the pair seemed to be fitting for each other; why they danced on their toes around each other and resolutely avoided moving forward was beyond him. Then again, who was he to talk? He and Jungkook are-_

_'Earth to Jimin! Hello-o?' Namjoon's voice tore him away from his spiraling thoughts. ' Alrighty, I believe it would do the two of you good to be acquainted, Me and the cap are off to lunch, so you can talk in his office.' The two were left in each other's company, silence ensuing. Dennis piped up, 'Uh, Mister Park...I know we got off on wrong footing here, but I really am good at researching and IT. I still don't know for the life of me why you agreed, but I really wanna p-'_

_'It's because you remind me of a friend. When we were kids. He was alot like you.' Jimin shuffled, darting his eyes to Dennis. The kid smiled wryly, 'Is it Mister Jeon? I-I ran into him a week ago when Mister Kim gave me a tour. He was talking to you on the phone. I saw the short documentary on the two of you.'_

_'The WHAT?' Jimin said, eyes sparkling with surprise. Dennis replied, giddy that he seemed to have made progress with his trainer, 'It's all about your cases. There was a part which said the two of you knew each other since before you moved to London, so I assumed.'_

*~*~*~*

As though he was hit with the train of realization, Dennis nodded knowingly. He ducked his head and bit down into one of Steven’s exposed arms. Letting out a surprised shriek of pain, Steven’s bald head and built body jumped away from Dennis as though an electric shock had gone through him - In the process, the sound of a gunshot echoed inside the warehouse.

A bullet shot through from the gun Steven was holding, clashing against the tin roof and coming back to _just _missing Dennis’s foot and lodging itself into the soil. Amidst all the confusion, Dennis had run his way over to the other side of the warehouse, where Jimin and Jungkook was standing. Grinning approvingly, Jimin patted his shoulder, ‘Looks like I taught you - at least a few things - well.’ Jungkook smirked, ‘Is it time to call them in?’ Jimin nodded. Jungkook held out his bronze-colored Glock in the air and shot towards the steel walls. A few intense moments of Paul and Steven Hewitt communicating silently. Tension hung in the air. Before they could sneak out the back door, armed police troops swarmed in from all doors, blocking any entrance and exit.

Jimin smirked with the mischievous twinkle in his eye each time he’d caught or cornered a culprit. He felt a sort of waxing and waning peace inside him. He’s closed this case, but at the price of two innocent young girls’ life. His smile flickered, but as Jungkook whispered quietly to him, ‘Another one to add to the books, your pride must be positively spilling at the seams’, instead of letting his guilt nibble at him, Jimin made a skeptical face and replied just as quietly, ‘The way you say it makes it sound as though I wasn’t already full to the brim with _Amour Propre…’ _Jungkook scoffed, not continuing the conversation and simple staying by Jimin’

The police had handcuffed the two brothers and were now dragging them off to the cars. The case was closed.

*~*~*~*

Once again, the duo found themselves sitting in the warm comfort of their spacious living room, Mrs.Agnes sweeping their rooms upstairs and tutting at the messy state of Jungkook’s. Even though Jimin bugged him about going up and helping Mrs.Agnes, Jungkook simply groaned every time and attempted to bury himself even deeper into the soft material of their couch.

Jimin sighed, giving up, ‘I’m making coffee, I still have to finish the end report for this case. Brooks simply won’t give us a break, will he? D’you want anything from the kitchen?’ He got up, looking expectantly at Jungkook, who was struggling to grip properly at the TV remote with his hands. Jungkook looked up, ruffling his hair, ‘I kept some hot chocolate in the fridge yesterday, could you warm it and give it to me?’

Jimin returned shortly, a piping hot mug of chocolate milk in one hand and a glass of steaming black coffee in the other. Jungkook snatched his mug and sunk back down into the sofa. He glanced at Jimin, who sat beside him and took a great gulp of coffee as he placed his laptop back on his lap.

‘Hey, Jim, I have a question about this case.’

‘I have to work; we’ll get to your questions later.’

‘C’mo-on, I’ll even make you a cup of hot chocolate!’

Jimin made a face of abhorrence, ‘I _hate _it, and you know that.'

Jungkook frowned, ‘We’ll get to your unreasonable dislike after you answer my question,’ He grabbed Jimin’s laptop and put it on the table, ‘so, the question is: How did Stefan - or whatever his name is - get Dennis as hostage?’ Jimin hummed, ‘Hm, yes, I asked him about that, of course, I didn’t have any reason to do so.'

Jungkook nodded, ‘Continue.’

Jimin resumed, ‘Well, apparently Dennis and Amy knew each other _quite _well, if you know what I mean. A huge coincidence, really. So, the place Amy was murdered in was actually just some place Steven or Paul - We’ll call him X since we don’t know what brother was there - had asked her to meet up, posing as Dennis. It was the same thing with the other brother - Y - and Dennis. Since we’d been searching the building for Hollister, and spent a few minutes there, it gave X enough time to get to the warehouse and take his position with Y, waiting for us to arrive.’

Jungkook made a look of understanding, ‘I see now! Thank you.’ Jimin moved to take back his laptop, but Jungkook held him back, ‘Ah! First you explain to me exactly why you dislike hot chocolate, I mean, it’s pure godsend!’

Jimin sighed, ‘It’s too _sweet!"_

The two of them continued to bicker and chat, eventually falling into a peaceful sleep.

And just like that, the two Twenty-five-or-so men finally shut their eyes and snored, at peace from the tiring case of Cypher. They would spend the rest of the night sleeping, and no creeping websites would bother them again - at least, for now.

*~*~*~*

In a gray, monochrome jail, a lone cell-dweller cowered in fear at the corner of his bed. The dim light of his small phone lit up part of the room. A deep voice rasped from the mobile, speech shaking with rage, ‘So you let him get away?’ Paul Hewitt nodded slowly. A roar of anger came from the other side. ‘Trust me, you will pay for this. I didn’t give you so much cash for this screw up, you asshole.’ Sweating profusely from dread, Paul replied with a voice laced with terror, ‘P-please, forgive me, Miss C-Callidora.’

The call ended.

On the other side of Britain, in a blue-walled room, a woman quaking with

wrath knocked over her chair. Lunging for a sharp dagger on her desk, she ran her hand through the handle and sunk in deep into a faded photo.

A photo showing a teen boy’s body with a face disfigured by the dagger, his arms wrapped around a girl. Callidora clawed uncontrollably at a limp cutting of a newspaper, the front page displaying a photo of a certain dark-haired detective and his doe-eyed friend looking side-ways at the camera, walking swiftly towards a black car. Her eyes fogged with memories, memories that brought her sorrowful anger.

They were happy, why did it have to end this way?

She clenched her jaw and whispered menacingly, ‘I didn’t want for this to happen, Park Jimin.’

*~*~*~*

_ **The End of Case I** _

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me your honest opinions, everyone!


End file.
